


Love Like Dominoes

by Filomena



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Convenience Store, Cashier!Tsukishima, Fluff, M/M, Reverse Harem, Tsukishima Kei is Bad at Feelings, and everyone falls in love with him, tsukishima is extremely smitten, yamaguchi is a buff hunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26118964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filomena/pseuds/Filomena
Summary: Whipping his head in Tsukishima’s direction, Hinata points at a person eyeing the toothbrushes on sale.“Look,” he not-whispers, flapping his hand around. The person doesn’t turn around.“Why?” Tsukishima asks irritably. Hinata’s probably going insane, but that was a long time coming.A candy bar skitters across the floor as Hinata leans into Tsukishima, surreptitiously lowering his voice. “Wait for it,” he murmurs.The person turns his head towards them, revealing a myriad of freckles, broad shoulders, and averycute face.Oh.Tsukishima feels his breath catch in his chest.Yamaguchi is a new transfer student who frequents Shimada Mart. Everyone who sees him there, including Tsukishima, falls in love with him.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Kuroo Tetsurou & Oikawa Tooru, Kuroo Tetsurou & Yamamoto Taketora, Nishinoya Yuu & Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Tanaka Ryuunosuke & Yamamoto Taketora, Tendou Satori & Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi, Yamaguchi Tadashi/Everyone, tsukkiyama endgame - Relationship
Comments: 28
Kudos: 272
Collections: TsukkiYama Week 2020





	Love Like Dominoes

Hinata knocks over a stack of candy bars near the cash register. He nearly tramples one of them under his foot, but not before stumbling backwards to look at something. 

“Hinata,” Tsukishima drawls out. He's sitting with his chin in his hand, and when he leans over the cash register, he can see the scattered candy bars on the floor. “Clean that up.”

Hinata continues to look the other way. 

Tsukishima frowns. “What-” 

Whipping his head in Tsukishima’s direction, Hinata points at a person eyeing the toothbrushes on sale. 

_“Look,”_ he not-whispers, flapping his hand around. The person doesn’t turn around.

“Why?” Tsukishima asks irritably. Hinata’s probably going insane, but that was a long time coming. 

A candy bar skitters across the floor as Hinata leans into Tsukishima, surreptitiously lowering his voice. “Wait for it,” he murmurs.

The person turns his head towards them, revealing a myriad of freckles, broad shoulders, and a _very_ cute face.

 _Oh._ Tsukishima feels his breath catch in his chest.

“Who is he?” Hinata hisses. His face is dangerously close to Tsukishima’s. They must look like gossiping high schoolers at this point.

Tsukishima leans back, glaring at Hinata, but keeps his eye on the cute guy. “How am I supposed to know?” he asks, in his typical annoyed fashion. There’s a dip in his voice near the end, because the cute guy has just locked eyes with him.

Hinata startles like a deer in headlights. “Oh, shit, he’s looking-”

Cute guy turns to face them completely. He’s clutching four toothbrushes in his hand. 

“Excuse me?” he asks politely, and his voice causes the back of Tsukishima’s neck to heat up. 

“Yeah?” Tsukishima calls out. Hinata stares at the two of them unsubtly, his mouth slightly agape.

Cute guy gives him a perfunctory grin. His freckles distort around his cheeks and his mouth. “Does the discount apply for two groups of two?”

Tsukishima’s eyes go to the yellow board above the toothbrushes. 

_Two for two thousand yen!_ The sales board blares. 

And in fine print, which he squints slightly to read: _*Only applies to one pair of toothbrushes per customer._

From the way Hinata’s eyes glaze over the sales board, he’s ready to yell out the answer. 

“Yeah,” Tsukishima quickly answers, after watching the way Cute guy tilts his head. “It does. Are you gonna buy those?”

Cute guy’s eyes stray to another discount, which is being held on toothpaste.

“In a minute,” he responds.

Hinata shifts slightly, causing the candy bars on the floor to scatter even more. 

* * *

“His name is Yamaguchi Tadashi,” Hinata proudly exclaims, dumping his purchases onto the counter. Today, they consist of five packages of soap.

Tsukishima scans them robotically. He cranes his head slightly to spot Cute guy, who he now identifies as Yamaguchi Tadashi.

 _Nice name,_ he thinks, mentally sounding it out. _Ya-ma-gu-chi Ta-da-shi._ The syllables are pleasantly spaced, falling into the right places.

“Oi,” Hinata interrupts annoyingly. “I’m not buying four packs of gum, Stingyshima.”

Tsukishima snaps out of his thoughts. “Really?” he drones, covering up his blunder with ease. “What a shame. I was hoping I could sneak them by.” 

He looks at the screen of the cash register, cancelling the last four additions. “For the commission, you know,” he adds on, as if it’s obvious. 

Hinata scowls. “You get paid an hourly salary. And you were zoning out.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know you!” Hinata slaps far too many bills beside the cash register. It’s different from last time, where he had slapped far too many coins instead.

“Fine.” Tsukishima takes three of the bills and pushes everything back. “Maybe I was, but your voice just happens to do that to me.” 

Hinata stuffs the bills into his wallet without folding them. It bulges comically, and it seems to nearly burst with the change Tsukishima hands him.

“I know why you were zoning out.” Hinata shoves his wallet into his pocket, and bags his purchases himself. “It’s because of Yamaguchi Tadashi, right?” he pries, voice taking on a defiant quality.

Tsukishima watches him angrily bag his items. Technically, it’s his job to do that, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Nope,” he responds, popping the “p”.

Hinata’s hands stop stuffing soap bars into the plastic bag. “It’s not?”

“Do you know what ‘nope’ means?”

“But-” Hinata splutters. He looks genuinely shocked. “Have-”

“Take your time, Hinata,” Tsukishima says sagely.

“Have you _seen_ him?” Hinata asks, sounding accusatory. “He’s so cute. He’s - I would spend my entire weekly salary on him. That kind of cute.”

Hinata works as a pizza delivery boy. Tsukishima smirks, saying, “And buy him a candy bar with it?” 

Really, he shouldn’t be insulting Hinata’s job, seeing as he’s a cashier for Shimada Mart. His weekly salary is probably the same as Hinata’s.

But the look that appears on Hinata’s face is priceless.

“Shut up, Shittyshima,” Hinata snaps. “You earn the same amount as me.”

“Ah, yes,” Tsukishima replies, feeling a wicked smile bloom on his face. “The same shitty minimum wage. Which means that we can both buy candy bars for Yamaguchi.”

“Why would you buy candy bars for me?” someone asks innocently.

Both Tsukishima and Hinata’s heads turn at the same time. They land on a cute face, a spray of freckles, and _shit,_ that’s Yamaguchi Tadashi in the flesh.

Hinata coughs into his hand. “Uh.” 

Tsukishima glares at Hinata as subtly as he can. “Well,” he says, and feels like his mind is going up in flames. “There’s some promotion going on.” He slides his eyes to Hinata.

“S - some promotion, yeah,” Hinata stutters out. Gentle confusion appears on Yamaguchi’s face, and Tsukishima has the urge to bang his head against the cash register. 

“Really?” Yamaguchi asks, perking up. “I’m down for a promotion. What’s it about?”

Hinata turns as stiff as a board. He glances at Tsukishima helplessly.

 _Why are you looking at me?_ Tsukishima thinks, trying to communicate his thoughts through the way he narrows his eyes at Hinata. _Do you seriously think I have everything under control?_

Yamaguchi looks at him patiently. It seems like he does, apparently, and he hastily replies, “Bring a friend to buy a candy bar, and you’ll get one for free.”

 _What kind of a promotion is that?_ His mind screams. 

“I’ve never heard a promotion like that before,” Yamaguchi says, making Tsukishima’s lip twitch uncomfortably. “But it sounds nice. Is it taking place now?”

“No,” Tsukishima replies, as quickly as he can. “It’s still in beta testing.”

Hinata’s mouth words “beta testing” in incredulousness, and he masks it by pilfering through his bag. 

Yamaguchi tilts his head, just like he did last time. It plucks one of Tsukishima’s heartstrings. “Beta testing, huh? Alright.”

There’s the sound of Hinata madly rustling through his bag of soap.

“Are you going to buy anything?” Tsukishima asks, breaking the momentary silence. It feels like surfacing from a deep pool. 

Yamaguchi holds up a basket containing eight bottles of shampoo. According to the sales board behind them, they have the same discount as the toothbrushes from yesterday.

“Does the discount apply to all of these?” he asks. His arm flexes slightly, and the sight causes Tsukishima’s throat to dry out.

Hinata has stopped rustling through his bag. He stands at the back, his face steadily becoming as red as his hair.

 _Hell no,_ Tsukishima thinks. 

“Yeah,” he replies, and watches the way Yamaguchi starts to gleefully place each shampoo bottle on the counter. 

If everyone followed the discount like that, they’d run out of shampoo stock for weeks.

Yamaguchi grins. It erases every thought from Tsukishima’s head. 

“Cool. Thanks.”

Tsukishima nods dumbly. Hinata finally leaves, nearly scampering out of the store.

* * *

Kageyama dumps down an armful of milk. Two cartons fall onto Tsukishima’s side, and he leans over the counter to try and grab them. 

“Oi,” Tsukishima says, angling his body away from Kageyama’s wandering arm. “Stop that. I’ll get it.”

Kageyama’s arm retreats hesitantly. “How many did I drop?” 

Tsukishima hunches uncomfortably, feeling two milk boxes with his hand. He grabs them and sets them on the counter with a _thud._ “Two,” he answers, pointing at them.

“Thanks.” 

There’s a lot of milk on the counter, now that Tsukishima thinks of it. Kageyama buys inordinate amounts of milk anyway, but this time, he seems to have bought half the stock. 

“Why are you buying so many?” Tsukishima asks, before he can help himself. He begins to scan each of the milk cartons. 

Kageyama’s frown deepens. “I need to stock up.”

Tsukishima gives up scanning each carton. He counts the amount on the counter, sums everything up in his mind, and adds it onto the total. “Hinata’ll complain, you know.”

“Hinata bought five bars of soap.” Kageyama scuffs the linoleum floor with his shoe. “Now we have ten bars of soap. It’s his fault.”

A familiar streak of competitiveness leaks through Kageyama’s voice. _Dimwits,_ Tsukishima thinks, shaking his head. 

“I didn’t know you could do simple addition,” he says instead, yanking a plastic bag from the stand. He starts to place the cartons into it. The plastic is already bowing from the weight of them. 

“Shut up, Tsukishima.” Kageyama nods toward the bag. “And I’ll bag them myself.”

Tsukishima primly hands the bag to him. “Sure,” he says lazily, because even though that’s his job, he has to appease his customers, right?

Kageyama takes each of the cartons out, to Tsukishima’s disdain, and begins to stack them up neatly inside. He’s going incredibly slowly. He even stops to check that they’re all lined up.

“Are you trying to hold up the line?” Tsukishima whinges, watching Kageyama make a little frame of milk cartons. The way he’s stacking them is almost impressive. “And you forgot to pay, you know.”

The bell of the door chimes. Kageyama’s head shoots up from the plastic bag, and a strange type of focus glints in his eyes. 

Yamaguchi Tadashi stops to look at the flowers by the doorway. His finger brushes on the petal of an orchid, catching on the moisture that’s accumulated on it. 

“Kageyama,” Tsukishima states, pointing at the total price, which boasts 1372 yen worth of milk cartons. “The money.” 

Kageyama stuffs his hand into his pocket and takes out an assortment of bent, crumpled bills. He doesn’t stop looking at Yamaguchi.

“Thanks.” Tsukishima makes sure to sound as sarcastic as possible. He pulls at each bill to read it more easily, and opens the register to put them in.

The change clinks as he drops it on the counter. Kageyama snaps out of his reverie at the sound, and stuffs the rest of his cartons into his bag hastily.

“Thanks,” Kageyama says, hands scrambling to get the change off of the metal counter. He puts everything into his back pocket, and shoves his arm through the bag’s handle.

Tsukishima stares at Yamaguchi. He’s moved onto the ferns, which curl around the stand they’re in. 

“No problem,” he replies, after they both watch Yamaguchi straighten out a leaf with his fingertips.

* * *

Hinata jabs his elbow into Kageyama’s side. Tsukishima winces, because it looks quite sharp. “I was here first, Bakageyama.”

“No, you weren’t.” Kageyama holds three detergent bottles in his arms. “You spent too much time dropping things near Yamaguchi.”

Hinata’s mouth opens in shock. “I wasn’t!” he exclaims. “And you were, too. Plus, you went and got detergent, which was in another aisle-” 

“Because we ran out-” 

“No, we didn’t! We have two containers! And neither of us like-” Hinata leans down to look at the label on the detergent bottles, “-the scent of green apples, anyway.” 

Kageyama looks down at Hinata. If there was ample lighting in the store, he would have cast an impressive shadow. “I like it,” he states, and leaves no room for arguing.

“But yesterday we both agreed that-” 

“Can you two shut up?” Tsukishima interrupts, having had his fill of Hinata and Kageyama’s arguing. “You’re going to hold up the line.”

Both of them look at the empty space behind them.

“What line?” Hinata asks. “There’s nobody here.”

“Yeah,” Kageyama adds on, brows twitching, “what line?”

Tsukishima sighs, feeling his sanity escape his body. “Just put your stuff on the counter.”

They both acquiesce, with Hinata placing his items first. His are scattered haphazardly on the counter, while Kageyama’s are neatly lined up. 

“I’m asking him out.” Hinata watches Tsukishima scan each item. “So don’t...don’t do that before me.” 

“Why? Afraid someone will steal him from you?” Tsukishima asks offhandedly. He imagines Yamaguchi’s face after being confessed to. Maybe he would blush. But would his face turn a tinge of pink, or a tinge of red?

His skin is tan, so probably red. And his freckles would look like-

 _“I’m_ asking him out, dumbass,” Kageyama snaps, breaking through Tsukishima’s thoughts. Two blotches of red appear on his face, and they gather at the apples of his cheeks. “He’d probably reject you, anyway.” 

“That’s mean, Kageyama,” Hinata shoots back. “He wouldn’t reject me. I’m nice, unlike you.”

Kageyama splutters. “Wh - I’m nice. Who said I’m not nice?” He turns to Tsukishima, riled up from the idiotic argument. “I’m nice, aren’t I?”

“No,” Tsukishima replies. He brings out a bag for Hinata’s purchases, which consist of a razor and a comic book. 

Kageyama’s scowl deepens. “I shouldn’t have asked you in the first place.” He pushes his items(air salonpas, bandages, and a pack of gum) forward impatiently.

“Yeah,” Hinata interjects helpfully, narrowing his eyes at Tsukishima. “What would Stingyshima know about being nice?” 

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, craning his neck to read the total on the cash register. “Pay up.”

Hinata grins smugly. “See?” He looks at Kageyama, who cocks a brow at him. “He didn’t even answer. Proof that he’s mean.”

“Who said I was complaining?” Tsukishima says airily. “And you still haven’t paid.”

Hinata whips out his busted wallet, fishing out a handful of coins. He places them in Tsukishima’s hand, because despite being spiteful, he’s too nice to dump them on the counter. 

Kageyama impatiently pushes his items forward. Tsukishima puts away Hinata’s money, hands him his change, and starts to scan Kageyama’s stuff.

“Didn’t you buy air salonpas last week?” Tsukishima asks Kageyama, scanning the container. He watches the total begin to increase with disinterest. 

“Ran out.”

“You ran out of air salonpas?” Tsukishima repeats. He still has his bottle, which he bought last month. “Did you use it as bug spray or something?” 

Kageyama’s gazes steels on Hinata, who’s spending an awful lot of time bagging his two items. “No,” he shoots back. “I just actually use it, unlike you.” 

Tsukishima smirks. “It’s pain relief spray. I think we use it the same way.” 

Kageyama seems to bite his cheek, looking the other way. “Whatever.” 

_He’s given up already?_ Tsukishima marvels, eyeing the way Kageyama’s face becomes splotchy again.

Then he matches Kageyama’s gaze and sees what he’s looking at: Yamaguchi, who is currently perusing the magazine covers, and holds a little fern in his arms.

The backs of his hands have freckles on them. Tsukishima barely registers that he’s scanned all of Kageyama’s items.

“Tsukishima,” Kageyama snaps, but his voice is weak, and his face is smeared with red. “I only bought one pack of gum, not three.” 

_Fuck,_ Tsukishima thinks, filling with self admonishment. Yamaguchi’s going to see his blunder and think he’s stupid. He harshly punches out the last few purchases, and rings up Kageyama’s total.

“Kageyama,” Tsukishima says coolly, ripping Kageyama out of his unsubtle smittenness. Hinata waits for him, shifting from foot to foot. “Your total.”

Kageyama nearly throws his credit card at the machine, and somehow, the tap function works. He forces it back into an empty card slot in his wallet. 

Yamaguchi looks up from the magazines. “Oh,” he says, musical voice slicing through the awkward gloom. “Has the line moved up?”

Tsukishima unceremoniously shoves Kageyama’s items away. “Yeah.” He looks at the fern in Yamaguchi’s arms. “Is that...all you’re getting?”

“Yeah.” Yamaguchi beams.

“You’re…” Kageyama says, face turning into something determined. “You’re into plants?”

Tsukishima whips his hand up to his face, smothering his snickering. “You mean gardening?” he corrects, letting his hand fall to his side. His face feels oddly warm.

“Oh,” Yamaguchi laughs, hoisting up the fern in his arms. “No, not really. It’s just that my new place looks kind of empty.”

New place, huh? That explains everything. Tsukishima detaches a bag for Kageyama and puts his items inside, since he seems to be planted in place.

“When’d you move in?” Kageyama blurts out. 

“Are you-” Hinata pipes up, from the far end of the counter. He was so silent that Tsukishima had forgotten about him. “Are you a transfer student?”

Yamaguchi grins. He has dimples, _oh god._ “Yeah! For accounting.” 

“That’s the same program as me,” Tsukishima says, before he can stop himself. 

“Really?” Yamaguchi gives him a smile. Dimples appear at the sides of his mouth again, and Tsukishima wonders what he did to deserve this. “Cool. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Tsukishima nods, somehow in a daze. “Yeah,” he says, feeling slightly punch drunk. “Of course.” 

“We’re students, too!” Hinata says. He points at Kageyama, continuing with, “Me and Kageyama.” 

Yamaguchi settles his fern on the counter. Tsukishima lifts it up delicately, turning it to find the barcode. 

“What are you guys studying?” Yamaguchi asks. 

“We’re on a sports scholarship,” Kageyama answers. He finally moves to Hinata, gathering his bag in one arm. With the other, he yanks Hinata’s sweater.

Hinata jerks in the other direction. “What are you-”

“We have practice,” Kageyama cuts off. Judging by the intensity in his voice, they actually do. 

“Oh _no,”_ Hinata says, pulling Kageyama toward the door. “Coach is gonna kill us, Kageyama, we gotta-” 

Kageyama nods to Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. There’s a lick of jealousy in his neutral expression. “See you later.” 

Tsukishima sets the fern down, ripping himself a plastic bag from the holder. “See you,” he says, because he doesn’t want to seem rude in front of Yamaguchi. 

“Yeah, see you!” Yamaguchi chirps, giving them a little wave. 

* * *

Tanaka and Nishinoya show up to Shimada Mart, which is incredibly surprising.

Nishinoya slaps a meat bun on the counter. “‘Sup, Tsukishima?” he asks. His grin is sharp around the edges. His eyes dart from side to side, as if on the lookout for something.

Tanaka throws another meat bun behind Nishinoya’s. “So this is where you spend your time, Tsukishima?” he teases. He immediately stuffs his hands in his pockets. He also has a furtive look to him.

Tsukishima narrows his eyes, scanning the first meat bun. “I thought you knew that already.” 

“I did?” Nishinoya asks, his tone light. He’s obviously masking something. 

“Yeah.” Tsukishima pushes the meat bun to the side. “It’s why I can’t go to late practices.” 

Nishinoya hums distractedly, causing Tsukishima to purse his lips.

“...Are you going to pay?” Tsukishima asks.

Tanaka perks up from behind Nishinoya. “He’s paying for mine, too.” 

Tsukishima wordlessly scans the next meat bun, and stares at Nishinoya.

“Noya,” Tanaka says, slapping Nishinoya’s arm. “Pay up. Also, Hinata was totally lying.”

Nishinoya sighs, sounding slightly disgruntled. “Fine, fine. And why would Shouyou lie? I don’t think that’s physically possible for him.”

“But I can’t see him.” 

“Who?” Tsukishima asks. Their furtive mood hits him like a truck - they’re waiting for the one and only Yamaguchi, who Hinata has blabbed about. “Yamaguchi?”

Tanaka winces. “Not so loud, man.” 

“Yeah,” Nishinoya says, taking a few bills out of his pocket. He pushes them toward Tsukishima. “Don’t make it awkward.”

Tsukishima takes the bills and puts them in the cash register. “You’re never here,” he points out, “unless there’s a sale on meat buns. And there isn’t a sale.”

Nishinoya takes the change Tsukishima gives him. He hands Tanaka the other meat bun, saying, “Sometimes our thirst for meat buns can’t be quenched.”

 _How do you know what “quenched” means?_ Tsukishima wants to ask, but Tanaka coughs awkwardly.

“Noya,” Tanaka ekes out, fist covering his mouth. “Six o’clock.” 

Both Tsukishima and Nishinoya’s eyes go to six o’clock, where Yamaguchi is looking at the deals on laundry detergent. 

“Oh.” For once, Nishinoya is speechless. “That’s…” 

“That’s him,” Tsukishima finishes, watching the way Yamaguchi checks the ingredients on the detergent. 

“Well,” Nishinoya says, ripping open his meat bun packet. “Hinata wasn’t lying. C’mon, Ryu.”

Tanaka shakes himself out of his stupor. “Uh. Yeah.” He nods to Tsukishima. “Later, man.”

Tsukishima nods back. He watches the two of them leave, oddly subdued by the sight of Yamaguchi. 

* * *

From then on, even the upper years come to visit Shimada Mart. Tsukishima’s convinced that the store has never had this many customers. 

Daichi helps Yamaguchi pick out a birthday card, even though it’s ultimately Tsukishima’s responsibility to help Yamaguchi with that.

(He’s not resentful about it. Not at all.)

Sugawara helps Yamaguchi pick out proper fertilizer. Asahi makes small talk with him about fern varieties, and looks like he’s about to faint the whole time.

Tsukishima is incredibly unamused. Yamaguchi is so nice to all of them - he gives each of them sunny smiles and leaves them sheepish and cowed, as if he’s Aphrodite herself.

He’s not. But he could be, probably, if Aphrodite decided to manifest inside a dingy convenience store in the middle of a college town. 

“Uh, hi?” someone says, and Tsukishima rips his eyes from the spot he was zoning out on.

Aphrodite stands in front of him, or rather, Yamaguchi.

“Sorry,” Tsukishima says, leaning off of the cash register. He fixes his glasses, trying to mask his blunder. “Are you ready to buy?”

Yamaguchi holds a razor and soap bars in his arms. “Yeah. That would be great.” 

Tsukishima clears the counter(more like dusts it off), motioning for Yamaguchi to place his things on it. 

“Are you the only employee here?” Yamaguchi suddenly asks. He places each item on the counter delicately. 

Tsukishima meets Yamaguchi’s eyes inadvertently. “Yeah,” he replies, scanning each of the items. “It’s a small store.”

Yamaguchi has green eyes. No, brown. Or hazel? It doesn’t matter, because they catch in the light all the same, flecked with gold and black. 

“Really?” Yamaguchi says, breaking his thoughts. “But there’s a decent amount of customers.”

He sounds so innocent. If only he could notice the way Hinata jitters when the two of them make eye contact, or how red the back of Daichi’s neck gets when he talks to him. 

Shrugging, Tsukishima finishes scanning the last item. “Nothing I can’t handle myself.”

Yamaguchi brings out his wallet from his back pocket. 

“But,” Tsukishima suddenly says, noticing that there’s a little freckle near Yamaguchi’s top lip. “I think my boss is also cheap.”

Yamaguchi snorts. It’s a cute sound, and Tsukishima finds his own lips starting to turn up. “I mean, that’s a likely reason.”

He takes coins from his wallet and drops them in Tsukishima’s palm. His hand is warm, and Tsukishima has the urge to curl his fingers around it.

“Considering how I haven’t got a raise yet,” Tsukishima adds on, unable to help himself from talking more, “that’s probably the only reason.”

He sorts through the coins hastily, putting the remaining change back in Yamaguchi’s waiting hand.

“Have a good one,” he finds himself saying, which is strange, because he’s never said that before. 

Yamaguchi grins at him, sweeping his items into a plastic bag with ease. “You too.”

* * *

“Kuroo.” Tsukishima sets down the tabloid he was flipping through. He places it face down, lest Kuroo make fun of the title. “What are you doing here?”

Shimada Mart is located at the far end of their campus. Kuroo’s part of campus is on the other end, and all things considered, he has no reason to come here.

“What do you mean?” Kuroo asks. He holds a container of aspirin and five hour energy in one hand. “I’m here to buy things, of course.”

Tsukishima looks behind Kuroo. A guy with a blonde mohawk stands there, and he strikes an odd resemblance to Tanaka. 

“That’s Yamamoto,” Kuroo adds on, pointing his full hand at the mohawk guy. “I don’t think you’ve met before.”

Tsukishima nods at Yamamoto, who nods brusquely back. He’s holding a keychain and a chocolate bar. 

Kuroo sets his things on the countertop. “Awfully empty, isn’t it?” His voice rumbles annoyingly, like it usually does, but there’s an odd edge to it. 

_Not him, too,_ Tsukishima mentally bemoans, scanning the aspirin and five hour energy. There’s no way Kuroo would know about Yamaguchi. Neither would Yamamoto, for that matter, since he’s never seen him here before. 

The cash register chimes as Tsukishima pops it open. “It’s always like this.” 

“I mean,” Kuroo says, looking behind him. “There should be at least a few other customers, right?” 

“That’s what Tanaka said,” Yamamoto pipes up.

Kuroo smirks. “Sounds like he was playing you.” 

Yamamoto places his items on the counter, brow furrowing. “Tanaka wouldn’t bluff about something so serious.”

“What’s so serious?” Tsukishima asks, raising an eyebrow. He looks at Kuroo expectantly. “And pay up.”

Kuroo huffs, taking out his wallet. He fishes a bill out, and places it in Tsukishima’s waiting hand.

Yamamoto glances around furtively. “I mean,” he says, cheeks flushing a faint red. Tsukishima resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I can’t exactly mention it here.”

“Because it’s about someone?” Tsukishima asks airily. “Tanaka did mention-” 

“Oi.” Kuroo flaps his hand in front of Tsukishima’s face. “You haven’t given me my change back.” 

Tsukishima snorts. He counts out the correct amount of money, dropping it in Kuroo’s waiting hand. 

“Anyways,” he continues, undeterred by Kuroo’s interruption. “This serious matter you’re talking about.” At the mention of Yamaguchi, Yamamoto’s flush seems to strengthen in colour. “He doesn’t come around this time.”

“Oh.” Kuroo’s fingers close around the change. He holds it by his side in a loose grip. “Well,” he continues breezily, looking at Yamamoto, “we didn’t come here to visit this person.”

Yamamoto places his items on the counter, looking somewhat disappointed. “Tanaka didn’t tell me about that. I’ll make him pay later.” 

Kuroo looks at him sharply. “Don’t go picking fights,” he scolds, as Tsukishima scans the items and waits for Yamamoto’s money. “Especially over something like that.”

He looks at Tsukishima, shaking his head sagely. “Kids these days.” 

“I’m a year younger than you,” Yamamoto says, scowling. He hands over a few bills to Tsukishima, glaring at Kuroo the whole time. “And hot people are totally worth fighting over. You don’t get it.” 

Kuroo puts a hand to his chest. “Because I’m usually the one people fight over, right?” 

Tsukishima’s finger pauses over the cash register. 

“No,” Tsukishima and Yamamoto say at the same time.

Kuroo stammers, finally at a loss of words. “Yamamoto, _seriously?_ I mean, Tsukishima, I understand, but Yamamoto-”

“Uh.” A voice breaks through Kuroo’s rambling, and causes everyone to look behind the line.

Yamaguchi waves at Tsukishima, looking self conscious at the three sets of eyes on him. He holds four soap dispensers in his hands.

“Does the discount apply for two groups of two?” he asks, nudging towards the yellow sign above the soap dispensers.

It’s the same promotion that the toothbrushes had. Tsukishima’s mind forces him to blurt out the answer before he can stop himself.

“Yeah,” he confirms. His eyes flick to the backs of Kuroo’s and Yamamoto’s heads. “It does.”

Yamaguchi grins. Dimples appear on his face, and from the way Kuroo and Yamamoto seize up, this is the first time they’ve witnessed it. “Thanks!” 

He walks off into another aisle.

Yamamoto is the first to turn around, and he keeps his face down as he takes his change from Tsukishima.

“Yamamoto,” Kuroo says, oddly calm.

“...Yeah?” 

“The Vexall near our building sucks.” Kuroo takes his five hour energy and aspirin in one hand. His spindly fingers manage to hold them with ease.

Yamamoto nods. He looks like he’s about to faint, and he pockets his items and change quickly. 

“They don’t even have five hour energy,” Kuroo continues, levelling Tsukishima with a serious look.

“Or, uh,” Yamamoto adds on, staring at the items in Kuroo’s hand. “Aspirin. They don’t have aspirin either.”

Tsukishima feels his sanity start to leave his body. “There’s aspirin everywhere,” he counters, “and also five hour energy. Why are you-”

“Not in our Vexall!” Kuroo interrupts. A faint flush of red tinges his cheeks, but he manages to look smug despite it. “C’mon, Yamamoto. This lab report isn’t going to write itself.” 

Yamamoto nods. He seems at a loss of words. “Yeah.” 

They make their way out, leaving Tsukishima feeling more exasperated than he has all week. 

* * *

“Wait-” Hinata interrupts. He’s already bought his items, and they’re bagged and waiting for him near the end of the counter. “Kuroo? That rooster guy?”

Tsukishima glares. “Didn’t I just say who he was?”

Hinata pulls at his eyes, making them comically stretched. “This guy?” he asks, his eyes turning into horizontal lines. He lets go of his face, and his skin bounces back into its previous position.

“Yes, why are you-” 

Hinata uses his hands to push his hair into a rooster’s crest. “This guy?” he demands.

“You look stupid,” Tsukishima snipes. _“Yes,_ it’s that Kuroo. How many people are named Kuroo on campus?”

“I mean,” Hinata starts, his face taking on an annoying thoughtfulness. “Kuroo’s not a common name. It’s kind of weird, actually, so maybe he’s the only one-”

“Please shut up, Hinata.” Tsukishima points at the bags. “Your stuff is there. You’re technically loitering, which is illegal.”

Hinata rolls his eyes. “What, standing is illegal?” 

Just as Tsukishima’s about to reiterate, _Yes, because you’re loitering,_ Hinata opens his mouth again.

“He’s gonna steal Yamaguchi.” Hinata’s eyes narrow. “I can’t let that happen.”

A disbelieving laugh rises up in Tsukishima’s chest. “Are you serious?” The corners of his lips start to turn up. “You think Kuroo’s going to steal Yamaguchi?”

“Have you seen Kuroo?” Hinata demands.

Tsukishima recalls Hinata pulling his eyes and mussing up his hair. “Yeah,” he replies, indignation rising in his voice. “He’s not going to _steal_ him. He’s Kuroo. He couldn’t charm a snail.”

“But he’s so suave!” Hinata bemoans, throwing his hands in the air. “He slides over all...smarmy, and he probably has three girlfriends-”

“Trust me, Hinata,” Tsukishima interjects. Kuroo’s dorky face flashes through his mind, and god, why the hell is he telling Hinata to trust him? “It’s not Kuroo we should be worrying about.”

“Then who?” 

Tsukishima pushes his glasses up. “You realize that other people are going to find out, right?” 

Hinata nods glumly. “I mean, if Kuroo already has…”

“Then so will everyone else.”

“And one of them will ask Yamaguchi out!”

Tsukishima sees a lottery card out of place, so he goes to straighten it. The thought of Yamaguchi being asked out makes him irritated. 

“And if you don’t want that to happen,” he replies smoothly, while his conscious mind is telling him to shut up, “you should hurry up.” 

He looks back at Hinata, who has an odd focus clouding his eyes. 

_Fuck,_ he thinks, hands stilling over the lottery cards. _What have I just done?_

Shaking his head, he tries to calm himself down. There’s no way Yamaguchi would say yes to Hinata, who’s bought more than fifteen bars of soap in the past week. It’s impossible. He’s blundering and he stutters, and he’s childish and-

“Alright.” Hinata has the same look he directs towards a volleyball.

“I mean,” Tsukishima tries to insert, franticness tainting his composure, “you might overwhelm him. He needs-”

“I’ve been talking to him for some time,” Hinata cuts off. He looks terrifyingly deadset. “And I even told you his name, because I found it out first. I think I’ll be fine.” 

Tsukishima scoffs, using his scorn as a last ditch resort. “If you say so.”

Hinata gathers his bags in his hand. They bow from all of the soap in them. “Later, Tsukishima.”

Tsukishima numbly watches Hinata march out of the store.

* * *

“Quit wasting our time, Oikawa,” a deep voice rumbles. It floats through the half empty store.

“You decided to come with me, Iwa-chan.” The responding voice has a lilt to it, and it’s accompanied by footsteps trailing after it. “You know, the fact that you decided to tag along says a lot about-”

“Shut up.”

Tsukishima’s head rises from the fist he rests it on. _Oikawa?_ He’s from another end of campus, if Tsukishima remembers accurately. He never comes to Shimada Mart, unless it’s to buy ungodly combinations of energy drinks and coffee.

His smirking face starts to surface from the aisles. “Classic Iwa-chan,” he trills, taking his hands out of his pockets. “I’m glad you’ve given up your monastic lifestyle.”

Iwa-chan, or who Tsukishima faintly remembers as Iwaizumi, trails behind Oikawa. “My lifestyle isn’t monastic, you asshole.”

Oikawa brings out his fingers and begins to count.“Working out everyday,” he starts. “Eating spartan foods, and devoting yourself to the scriptures, which in this case, are our notes.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi scowls, “that’s not not monastic. Monks are-”

Oikawa moves out of the aisle and towards Tsukishima’s till, cutting off Iwaizumi. “Monks are super boring, Iwa-chan. So are you.”

Iwaizumi walks in stride with Oikawa, face contorted into a deep glare. “I’m not _super boring,”_ he bristles, “and that doesn’t mean I’m a monk.”

“Sure,” Oikawa agrees easily. He gives Tsukishima a pleased look. “If you say so.”

They’re both standing in front of the counter. Tsukishima watches their conversation like it’s a tennis match.

“Are you even going to buy anything? Payday is next week, and you blew your money on some dumb game.”

“Red dead redemption isn’t dumb, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sniffs. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, defiantly taking out a few coins. “And I still have some money leftover.” 

Iwaizumi snorts. “Yeah, like, fifty yen.”

Oikawa picks through the change. Tsukishima’s eyes inadvertently go to his hand, which holds a meager amount of coins. “One-forty yen,” he declares proudly. He cranes his head to look at the row of candies, his finger brushing on the price tags.

“You can’t buy shit with that.” Iwaizumi crosses his arms. He has impressive muscles, and they seem to bulge out of his threadbare shirt. 

“Actually,” Tsukishima interrupts politely, leaning off of the counter. He sets his face into something neutral. “There’s breath mints for a hundred and three.”

“See!” Oikawa says, smirking at Iwaizumi. He picks out the breath mints, holding them up like they’re the holy grail. “I can get this.”

Iwaizumi smirks in kind. “Heaven knows you need them.” 

Oikawa splutters. “I don’t - Iwa-chan, you’re so mean!”

“Not mean.” Iwaizumi’s smirk widens. “Just honest.” 

“Yeah,” Oikawa huffs, “honestly mean. Anyways,” he says, fixing Tsukishima a blinding smile. He dangles the breath mints between his thumb and index finger. “I’ll have these.”

He places them on the counter. Tsukishima scans it, keeping his mouth shut. Listening to these two is mildly entertaining.

Iwaizumi sighs. “There’s no one here,” he complains, crossing and uncrossing his arms. His leg(which is quite built) jitters slightly. “If no one shows up, I’m kicking your ass.”

“Oh?” Oikawa says, raising his eyebrows. He turns his head to stare at Iwaizumi, and manages to pay Tsukishima at the same time. “You’ll kick my ass? Sounds like you came with me to-”

Iwaizumi raises his jittering leg to kick Oikawa in the shins. “I walked all the way here because I didn’t do cardio yesterday,” he snarls, his face taking on a dark gloom. “Not because of...whatever reason you’re here.”

“Ouch, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whinges. He takes the change Tsukishima gives him and places it in his pocket. “And don’t act dumb, it doesn’t look good on you. You know why I’m here.”

 _Are they going to stay here any longer?_ Tsukishima thinks idly. He takes out the lottery cards to organize them again, even though he did that an hour ago. 

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi retorts, “because Kuroo managed to trick you again.”

“Kuroo wouldn’t trick me!” Oikawa brings a hand to his chest, putting on a grandiose air. “We’re friends.”

At the sound of Kuroo’s name, Tsukishima stifles a groan. Of course, fucking _Kuroo_ had to blabber about Yamaguchi to the rest of campus. Who else has he told?

Iwaizumi barks a laugh. “Like the last time? With the Vexall?” 

Oikawa scowls, and it breaks his pretty composure. “I got him back for that,” he counters darkly. “And you should have seen him this time. He was blushing, Iwa-chan. He only blushes over...I don’t know.” He throws his hands in the air. “His chemistry labs.”

Unconvinced, Iwaizumi uncrosses his arms. “Right.”

Tsukishima clears his throat. “Your breath mints,” he says, pointing at the counter. The breath mints look rather pathetic on their own. 

“Oh.” Oikawa leans over to pick them up. “Sorry.”

“Are we done?” Iwaizumi says, rolling his eyes. 

Oikawa sends a glare to him, and then fixes a grin to Tsukishima. “Tsukishima,” he says, after reading Tsukishima’s name tag and pocketing the mints. “Is there anyone else here?”

“Like who?” Tsukishima asks innocently. The lottery cards ruffle in his hands. He hopes he looks unassuming enough.

Oikawa narrows his eyes. “Any other customers?” he needles. 

“You’re coming off as a creep, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi mumbles. He looks incredibly amused.

“Am not,” Oikawa childishly counters. He starts to make his way around the counter, where the exit door is. “And it seems like there’s no one here. Let’s go, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi sighs. “Finally.” 

They both make their way to the door. A sudden scuffle causes Tsukishima to rip his eyes off of the lottery cards, and he places them on the counter, turning his head to look. 

“Oh, sorry!” Yamaguchi says, sounding genuinely apologetic. “There was stuff in front of the entrance, so I came through here, but-”

“That’s fine.” Iwaizumi’s voice cuts through Yamaguchi rambling. He sounds oddly cowed. From the way he’s angling himself to let Yamaguchi through, he also seems sheepish.

“Yeah,” Oikawa adds on, “that’s totally fine.” He manages to look suave while leaning on the doorframe. “Are you new? I haven’t seen you around here.”

 _Goddamnit,_ Tsukishima thinks. He opens his mouth, thinking of anything to deter Oikawa with, but Iwaizumi beats him to it. 

“Let’s go, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi yanks Oikawa by the sleeve roughly, causing him to stumble outside. He nods politely to Yamaguchi, saying, “Sorry about that. See you later.”

There’s a faint sheen of red on Iwaizumi’s face.

Tsukishima drops the lottery cards on the counter, putting his face in his hands. _Not him, too,_ he mentally bemoans.

“Y-yeah,” Yamaguchi stutters, sounding incredibly confused. “You too.”

* * *

“Uh,” Yamaguchi says, hand going to the side of his neck.

Tsukishima looks up from the gallon of milk he’s scanning. “What?” 

“Someone - I think Hinata? He spilled a bunch of razors in aisle three.” Yamaguchi looks slightly guilty. 

Shrugging, Tsukishima continues to scan Yamaguchi’s purchases. “Don’t worry about it,” he drawls. “He does that often. He’ll clean it up himself.”

“I think he was trying to reach something.” Yamaguchi’s face crumples into something Tsukishima can’t read. “But he didn’t accept my help.”

“Because he’s clumsy and prideful. That’s normal for him.” 

At this, Yamaguchi’s shoulders seem to relax. “Are you friends?” he asks, tilting his head. The action is impossibly cute. 

For the first time in his life, Tsukishima thinks, _I have the best job in the world._ Yamaguchi’s perfect features mold into something confused.

“Uh,” Tsukishima stutters, and immediately curses his luck. “No. We’re not friends.”

“Really?” Yamaguchi asks. His eyes look hazel in the flickering fluorescent lighting. “But you talk often.”

“More like he annoys me, and I’m paid to listen to him,” Tsukishima responds dryly, staving off thoughts of _shit, does Yamaguchi know what they talk about?_

Yamaguchi shrugs. Part of his shirt slips off of his collarbone, revealing another smattering of freckles. “Dunno.” His lips rise into a half grin. “You seem pretty into it.”

If Tsukishima was dramatic, he would clutch at his heart and fall behind the counter. Yamaguchi’s being _snarky?_ There’s a teasing side of him under all those gentle smiles? 

And those collarbone freckles. Tsukishima’s mind ebbs into territories he shouldn’t be near during work. 

“Well,” he begins, pushing up his glasses. He grazes his cheekbone, which feels oddly hot. “I’m not. He’s just enthusiastic enough for the two of us.”

Yamaguchi smirks. _Fuck fuck fuck,_ Tsukishima thinks, and he swears he can feel his heart migrate to the apples of his cheeks.

“Alright,” Yamaguchi replies. He gives a little wave, turning his foot to go back into an aisle. “Nice talking with you.” 

“You too,” Tsukishima says, and feels like he’s been bludgeoned.

* * *

“Oikawa!” Hinata exclaims. He bounds over from the candy aisle to Oikawa, who’s looking at the discount on keychains.

Oikawa turns his head in surprise, and then a genuine smile appears on his face. “Chibi-chan!” he greets warmly. His posture relaxes. Tsukishima’s never seen him look so at ease. “What are you doing here?”

Hinata grins. “Buying stuff for my dorm. How come you’re here? I never see you around.” He bounces on his toes slightly. 

“Y’know,” Oikawa says flippantly. “Burning the midnight oil.” 

Tsukishima blinks from behind the cash register. It’s not even ten yet. 

Oikawa cocks his head, jabbing a finger towards the basket full of deodorant in Hinata’s arms. “What are you buying so much deodorant for?”

“There’s a discount. Also, volleyball stuff.” 

Oikawa nods sagely. “I get it. I had to stock up on air salonpas the other day.” 

Tsukishima covers his snort in a cough. Oikawa had bought several cans of the stuff, taking his sweet time to bag everything. He became progressively more prissy when he realized that Yamaguchi wasn’t coming that day. 

“Really?” Hinata replies. “So did Kageyama. He goes through those like crazy.”

“Does he? How interesting.” Oikawa’s expression becomes a little sharper at the mention of Kageyama. 

“Anyways.” Hinata hoists the wire handle of the basket on his shoulder. “How are things? I haven’t talked to you in a while.”

Oikawa sighs. “You know how it’s like,” he complains, “with my major and all.”

Hinata nods in sympathy. “Yeah. I would totally die if I had to-”

“Sorry,” a voice floats out. Tsukishima perks up, straightening his posture. There’s a certain timbre to the voice that he’s come to memorize. “I have go through here.” 

A freckled hand points between Hinata and Oikawa, who are currently blocking the entrance to an aisle.

“Uh!” Hinata splutters. His basket sways aggressively in on his shoulder as he moves back. “Sorry! I’m really sorry! I didn’t know I was in the way! I-” 

“Yeah,” Oikawa cuts through, face settling into its flirtatious neutral expression. “Really sorry. We didn’t see you there.” 

Yamaguchi looks between the two. He still hasn’t made it out of the aisle. “It’s - it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I just needed to get through,” he soothes, holding up his arms. Two baskets laden with food dangle from his forearms.

Tsukishima’s eyes track the way his forearms hold the mountains of food up. So do everyone else’s, unbeknownst to him.

“You’re buying an awful lot of food,” Oikawa notes. He arches a perfect brow.

“Yeah!” Hinata chimes in, currently unaware of what Oikawa is doing. “Are you an athlete?”

“No?” Yamaguchi responds. The baskets shake slightly as he shifts his arms. “I just moved in recently, actually.” He laughs sheepishly. “I don’t think I give off the vibe of an athlete.” 

“Really?” Oikawa says smoothly. He smiles, looking annoyingly pretty, and Tsukishima has the urge to throw a tin of breath mints at him. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Hinata starts slightly. The transition from shock to competitiveness is hilarious - he manages to compose himself just in time, but not before giving Oikawa a slow side eye.

“Oh. Thanks.” Yamaguchi scratches the back of his head sheepishly, giving Oikawa a small grin. The motion is smooth, despite the pounds of food balancing on his arms. 

Tsukishima watches his arm muscles bunch up as they lift the basket. His own arms aren’t nearly as buff.

“Do you work out?” Hinata pipes up. He looks pleasantly engaged, but Tsukishima recognizes the lick of determination on his eyes.

“Yeah, actually!” Yamaguchi replies. For some reason, he perks up at the mention of working out.

 _Don’t do that,_ Tsukishima thinks, sweating bullets. His eyes go between Oikawa and Hinata, who circle around Yamaguchi like hawks. _Don’t encourage them._

Oikawa tilts his head, looking clearly more interested. ( _Shit,_ Tsukishima thinks.) “Cool. How often?”

“Every other day, usually.” 

“Oh!” Oikawa raises both his eyebrows. The light casts a slight shadow on his face. “Then you must have quite the physique, right?”

Tsukishima holds his breath.

Yamaguchi raises his arms in embarrassment. “Not really, actually. I mean, just as much as anyone else who works out that fre-”

“So like, you’re totally ripped, right?” Hinata interrupts. The determination in his eyes starts to take over his facial expression. “You have to be. I mean, if you work out that often.”

“Uh.” Yamaguchi’s eyes flicker to Tsukishima. “Depends on your definition of ripped.” 

“But any definition of ripped means buff,” Oikawa counters. 

“Yeah,” Hinata adds on, “and if you’re holding that much food easily, you’ve gotta be-”

Tsukishima clears his throat loudly, and it cuts through Oikawa and Hinata’s bumbling. 

“I’d like it if you quit harassing my customers,” he interrupts. 

He winces internally. They both stare at him, as well as Yamaguchi, and he starts to quail under their glances. 

Twin expressions come over Oikawa and Hinata’s faces: the same breed of competitiveness, making Tsukishima feel like he’s drawn a massive target on his back.

“Well.” Oikawa gestures towards Tsukishima. There’s an inkling of sarcasm in the way he sweeps his arms. “I wouldn’t want to impede on your job.”

“Yeah,” Hinata almost sneers, “even though we weren’t even doing anything wrong.”

“I-” Yamaguchi stutters. He gestures towards Tsukishima’s till, the baskets swaying on his arms. “I’ll just pay for my stuff now, if you guys don’t mind. Nice talking to you.” 

Oikawa smiles. It’s soft and probably what countless people have swooned over, but from the way he side eyes Tsukishima, it means murder. “Of course. Nice talking to you too.” 

“Yeah!” Hinata chimes in. He refuses to look Tsukishima’s way. “It was great talking to you.” 

Yamaguchi nods politely, making his way through the two of them. As he sets his items on the counter, Tsukishima swears that they’re plotting his covert disappearance. 

* * *

“Tsukki!” Bokuto greets. He’s wearing some type of muscle shirt, showing off his well defined arms. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you doing?” 

“It’s been a week, Bo.” Kuroo appears behind him, his hair annoyingly mussed to perfection. From the way it glints under the shitty lighting, he seems to have gelled it.

“I played volleyball with you once,” Tsukishima drawls, “and that means you can call me Tsukki?” 

Bokuto’s cheerful expression remains unfazed. “Well, yeah.”

Tsukishima opens his mouth, a retort ready on his lips, but Kuroo beats him to it.

“Why haven’t you come back to the rec centre?” Kuroo asks. 

“Yeah,” Bokuto chimes in. “How else are you gonna improve those blocks of yours?”

Tsukishima resists the urge to sigh. “I came because Hinata forced me to. I don’t care about my blocks.”

Kuroo clutches his heart dramatically. “What? You don’t care?” he exclaims. He looks at Bokuto. “Better close your ears, bro. He’s insulting volleyball.”

Bokuto wipes an imaginary tear from his face. “Too late, bro. My heart’s already broken.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes. “Are you guys going to buy anything?” He points at the loitering sign near the doorway. “Loitering is illegal.”

“We’ll buy something, Tsukki,” Kuroo drawls out. He turns his foot to walk into an aisle. 

“Tsukki wouldn’t get us arrested, would he?” Bokuto asks, turning to follow Kuroo. His voice becomes fainter as he moves further into the aisle. 

Kuroo barks out a laugh. It’s so loud that Tsukishima can hear it. “He’s a secret softie, Bo. He’d probably bail us out.”

 _Wrong,_ Tsukishima thinks scathingly, looking the other direction. _Completely wrong._

It’s surprising that Bokuto is here. He never visits the convenience store, opting for the Vexall instead. 

But then again, he was tagging along with Kuroo. So it’s probably because of-

“Hello?” Yamaguchi greets uncertainly. He holds a bag of chips in his hand.

Speak of the devil. Or angel? Tsukishima shakes his head slightly, making eye contact with Yamaguchi. “Sorry. What do you need?”

Yamaguchi looks at his face intently. “I just,” he holds up the bag, “wanted to buy this.”

“Right.” Tsukishima holds his hand out, waiting to scan the bag. There’s no need to put it on the counter.

Placing it in his hand, Yamaguchi’s mouth curls into a small, coy smile. “Did those guys just call you ‘Tsukki’?” 

Tsukishima likes Yamaguchi’s voice. It’s smooth and lilting, and when he says “Tsukki”, he feels like spontaneously combusting. 

“It’s...a dumb nickname,” he responds, trying to sound irritated. He probably fails. If Kuroo and Bokuto were here, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. 

“I don’t know.” Yamaguchi’s smile turns into an adorable grin. “I think it’s sweet.”

The bag in Tsukishima’s hand ceases to exist. “Really?” he asks, holding the bag dumbly over the scanning apparatus. “You think it’s sweet?”

Yamaguchi begins to look sheepish. “Your name is Tsukishima, right? It’s a neat abbreviation.”

“Oh.” Tsukishima hopes that Kuroo and Bokuto are still in the back of the aisle. “I haven’t thought of it that way.”

Wrong thing to say. Yamaguchi starts to look apologetic, saying, “Well, I mean, if it makes you genuinely uncomfortable, that’s totally-”

Tsukishima gapes at his rambling. “It’s fine,” he cuts through, feeling a bit breathless. “I don’t mind it. I mean, I pretend I do, but I don’t.” He clears his throat. “I don’t mind it, is what I mean to say.”

A look of faint amusement goes over Yamaguchi’s face. “So you don’t mind if I call you that?”

“Of course not,” Tsukishima blurts out, before he can stop himself. He finally scans the item, ringing up the total. 

“Okay!” Yamaguchi says. He digs through his pockets to bring out a few coins. Dropping them in Tsukishima’s hand, he adds on, “You know, it’s kind of funny.”

Tsukishima lets the coins fall into his hand. It’s the exact amount, and he puts all of it into the cash register. “What’s funny?”

Yamaguchi shrugs. “You seem cool and all,” he says, and Tsukishima feels himself internally balk, “but then you get called ‘Tsukki’.” 

The words barely register in Tsukishima’s mind. _Did he just call me cool?_ He thinks. _He said “Tsukki” again._

Taking Tsukishima’s silence as offense, Yamaguchi raises his hands up in apology. “It’s - it’s a nice contrast. That’s what I was trying to say.” 

_He just called me cool,_ Tsukishima’s mind dumbly thinks. 

“Thanks,” he replies, handing Yamaguchi the bag of chips. Yamaguchi accepts them. His shoulders slightly sag in relief. 

“No problem. Later, Tsukki.”

He leaves before Tsukishima can say anything else. That’s a good thing, though, because Tsukishima’s sure his face has turned completely red.

* * *

“You owe your success to us, Tsukki,” Kuroo says, watching Tsukishima scan his candy bar. 

Tsukishima snorts. “What success?” he asks, but deep down, he knows exactly what Kuroo is talking about. 

Kuroo leans on the counter. “C’mon, Tsukki,” he needles, “you know what I mean.”

“What success?” Hinata pipes up, emerging behind them. He has several boxes of baking soda in his arms. 

Tsukishima cranes his neck to look at the items in Hinata’s arms. “Do you even know what that is?” he asks.

Hinata glares at him. “Duh. Why else would I be buying it?” He looks at Kuroo. “What success?” he demands. A box starts to slip out of his arms, and he hugs them closer to his body.

“With yours truly,” Kuroo drawls out. 

“Wait.” Hinata levels a look at Tsukishima. “Tsukishima had success with Yamaguchi? What do you mean by that?”

Kuroo raises an eyebrow. “I mean that Tsukki here,” he says, throwing a look at Tsukishima, who’s now frowning, “let Yamaguchi call him ‘Tsukki’. Which he hates being called, by the way.”

Hinata huffs, dumping his stuff on the counter. Kuroo moves away slightly. 

“He’s not going to steal Yamaguchi,” Hinata insists. “He’s way too mean. And Yamaguchi’s way too nice for him.”

 _Doesn’t that mean we’re a good pair?_ Tsukishima wants to say, but he bites his tongue. He already has Oikawa and Hinata on his back, and isn’t in the mood to make it worse. 

“I don’t know.” Kuroo straightens off of the counter. He stretches his long limbs, looking catlike and aloof. Tsukishima recognizes the competitiveness oozing from his posture. “We’ll have to see what happens, hm?”

Hinata nods darkly. Tsukishima looks between both of them, and wonders if they would deign to murder him. “Yeah. We’ll have to see.”

Tsukishima immensely regrets getting this job.

* * *

“You’re kidding.” 

Tsukishima stares into the eyes of none other than Ushijima Wakatoshi, who looks as unperturbed as always.

“Who’s kidding?” Ushijima asks. A little quirk appears between his brows. He turns to Tendou, who’s looking through the rack of candies. “Did I make a joke?”

Tendou gives Ushijima and Tsukishima a glance. From the looks of it, he’s deduced the entire situation already. “Nope. Tsukishima’s just bothered by our presence.”

“But we’re here to buy things.” Ushijima holds a protein bar in his broad hand. 

Tendou snorts, getting up. He has a chocolate bar in his hand, and he places it on the counter delicately. “That’s why he’s bothered by us, Wakatoshi.” His eyes narrow at Tsukishima. “Unless there’s something else.”

Ushijima nods, placing his protein bar behind Tendou’s chocolate bar. He pushes the two of them until they’re neatly aligned. “It could be the customer who frequents this place.”

“Jeez,” Tendou chides, but he doesn’t look bothered at all. “What happened to being subtle?”

Ushijima’s expression doesn’t change. “He’s not being subtle.”

Tsukishima scans Tendou’s chocolate bar quickly, looking at him expectantly. “Total’s on the display,” he drawls out, making his tone as flat as possible.

“Why, thank you, Tsukishima.” Tendou takes a handful of coins out of his pocket and begins to count them. He nudges Ushijima, picking up a coin between his pointer and thumb. “Wakatoshi, where’s this coin from?”

Ushijima frowns at the coin. “Japan. It’s a yen coin. Why?”

Tendou sighs dramatically. “Darn. I thought it was one of those cool foreign ones.”

Clearing his throat, Tsukishima gives Tendou a scrutinizing look. 

“Alright, alright,” Tendou lilts annoyingly, placing coins into Tsukishima’s hand. “Don’t worry, Glasses-kun. I’m not here to dine and dash.”

Tsukishima takes the change(irritatingly, it’s the exact amount) and puts it in the cash register, handing Tendou his chocolate bar stiffly. 

Ushijima’s eyes track Tsukishima’s hand, which picks up his protein bar and scans it. “Of course we’re not,” he says solemnly, taking out change from his pocket. “That would be illegal.”

“See?” Tendou says, pointing at Ushijima. “Wakatoshi gets it. Loosen up a little, Glasses-kun.”

“I’m perfectly at ease,” Tsukishima deadpans. He takes Ushijima’s change(also the exact amount) and puts it in the cash register. 

Ushijima takes his protein bar and looks at Tendou, who’s staring at the row of comics. “Tendou,” he rumbles, “we should leave now.”

Tendou huffs. “But Wakatoshi,” he complains, and it irks Tsukishima. “I’m looking at these comics. I might buy one.”

“You don’t have enough money.”

“Maybe Glasses-kun here,” Tendou responds, jabbing towards Tsukishima, “can give me a discount.”

“I think that would get him fired.” 

Tendou turns to Ushijima. “Would it? Actually, what do you think would get him fired?”

“Well,” Ushijima starts, brows scrunching up in thought. “Theft, for one. Then there would be property damage, allowing solicitors, or-”

“Or murdering someone?” Tendou interrupts. He puts a finger to his chin. Tsukishima narrows his eyes at him, and is overcome with the strongest urge to kick them out. “Wait. Would he get arrested before he got fired?”

Ushijima hums in thought. “It depends. Is he murdering someone inside the store?”

Tendou gasps. “What if his boss walks in on him murdering someone?”

“But that would sanction an arrest first.” 

Tsukishima tries and fails to quell his annoyance. It’s beginning to reach extreme levels, and despite being a calm guy, he has his limits.

“You know,” he drawls out, causing the two of them to swivel their heads. “It sounds a lot like you’re trying to-”

“Um.” A new voice breaks through Tsukishima’s caustic comment. The tone and the timbre causes his annoyance to dispel. 

Yamaguchi stands sheepishly behind them. He’s empty handed this time, and he places his hands behind his back awkwardly. “I was just wondering,” he haltingly starts, looking between Ushijima, Tendou and Tsukishima, “if you had any baking soda.”

Thank _god_ for Yamaguchi. “There’s nothing there?” Tsukishima asks. He swears he restocked a few days ago.

Yamaguchi shakes his head. “There’s nothing. It’s, uh, completely empty.” 

There’s a crumpling noise as Tendou opens his chocolate bar. He looks at Ushijima, whose face is as bland as ever, but oddly more focused. 

“There’s baking soda in the Vexall nearby,” Ushijima says helpfully, his voice firm and deep.

“You’re gonna make him walk all the way across campus, Wakatoshi?” Tendou teases. He looks at Yamaguchi, who glances back intently. “If you walk past this convenience store, there’s a laundromat. They always have some.” 

“Oh,” Yamaguchi says, perking up. “Thanks.”

Tendou nods smoothly, biting into his chocolate bar.

“Actually,” Tsukishima interrupts irritably, “there’s some in the back.” He nods towards Yamaguchi. “I’ll go and get it. Wait here.”

“Really?” Yamaguchi says. “Okay, thanks.”

Tendou rolls his shoulders. He’s finished his chocolate bar by now, and he stuffs the wrapper into his pocket.

“And, uh,” Yamaguchi adds on, nodding to both Ushijima and Tendou, “thanks for the tips. They’ll definitely come in handy.”

Tsukishima barely holds back his groan. Yamaguchi is far too nice for his own good, and it’s evident by the way Ushijima’s expression mollifies, and the way Tendou pauses mid-forearm stretch.

“No problem,” Ushijima says. The grip on his protein bar starts to crinkle the plastic.

“Yeah,” Tendou says airily, but there’s something more genuine in the way he smiles. “No prob. Feel free to ask us for help.” 

Yamaguchi’s face lightens. “Alright!” he answers.

Tsukishima watches Ushijima and Tendou trail out of the store. Tendou sways his arms, accidentally hitting Ushijima a few times, and Ushijima looks more stiff in his movements.

 _There’s a storm coming,_ Tsukishima thinks, staring at Yamaguchi’s innocently happy face. _This is going to end in a disaster._

He looks at Yamaguchi, who’s awaiting his baking soda. He has his hair pulled into a little half ponytail. Several hairs frame his face.

 _But maybe it’s worth it,_ Tsukishima mentally adds on. 

* * *

“Ushijima.” Oikawa looks at Ushijima with narrowed eyes. His fingers are tightly clenched around a packet of instant ramen, and Tsukishima can see the noodle block start to break. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Hello, Oikawa,” Ushijima says, nodding gravely. Even though he’s as emotionally responsive as a brick, there’s an edge to his usual expression. “It is nice seeing you here too.” 

Tsukishima looks between the two of them. He has no idea how he’ll break up their eventual fistfight. 

“No, _dumbass,”_ someone snaps, and it’s the last voice Tsukishima wants to hear. “We don’t need more soap. And why’d you buy so much baking soda? What’s that even used for?”

Hinata stomps into the store. He must have shouldered his way in front of Kageyama. “For baking, Bakageyama,” he snaps back, “and cleaning. Don’t you ever clean?”

“You clean with _baking soda?_ Why don’t you just use all the soap you bought?”

Hinata turns to Kageyama, looking at his wit’s end. “Because that’s for the _body!_ It’s body soap, not cleaning soap. You really don’t know anything, do you?”

“Soap is just soap!” Kageyama barks out. “It doesn’t matter what it should be used for.”

Somehow, they manage to argue and walk at the same time. Hinata barely brushes Ushijima’s elbow with his back. 

“Oh,” he says, finally turning his head to look. “Sorr-”

Ushijima stares down at him. He gives a brusque nod. “No problem. I was unaware that you were behind me.”

Hinata gapes. After he processes Ushijima’s comment, he retorts, “Are you trying to call me-”

“Oh, Chibi-chan!” Oikawa interrupts. He smiles warmly, but his eyes flick towards Kageyama. “How are you doing?”

“Oikawa,” Hinata greets, ripping his eyes from Ushijima. “I’m doing great.”

They look like they’re on the verge of a Mexican standoff. Tsukishima ducks behind the counter to pick up fallen coins, which he’s been delaying doing for a week.

“How are you?” Hinata continues, voice sounding muffled. Tsukishima shakes the dust off of his hand, wincing at how much grime there is. 

“Never been better,” Oikawa responds breezily. “Is that Tobio-chan behind you?”

Kageyama grunts. There’s footsteps as he walks away from the cashier’s till, and he calls out, “I’m going to find detergent.”

Tsukishima stacks up the coins neatly, and surfaces to put them on the countertop. Hinata’s disgruntled face pops into view.

“Bakageyama,” Hinata mutters under his breath. “I’m gonna go join him. Later, Oikawa.”

Oikawa gives a perfect wave. “Later.”

“Where’s the air salonpas?” Ushijima asks Tsukishima. His face is as plain as ever, but if Tsukishima squints, he can see hints of awkwardness. 

Tsukishima pauses in dusting off his hands. “Aisle three.” He looks at Oikawa and Ushijima, who stand stiffly in each other’s presence. 

“Thanks.”

Oikawa watches him leave with sharp eyes. When he’s finally gone, he slaps the ramen packet on the counter, giving Tsukishima one of his coquettish grins.

“Ring this up for me, won’t you?” he asks. 

Tsukishima scans it. He feels exhausted already, despite it being half an hour into his shift.

* * *

“You’re a pinch server?” Hinata asks, sounding completely shocked. He looks at Yamaguchi with wide eyes. 

“Used to be,” Yamaguchi corrects. He shifts the baskets of food on his forearms. There’s a sizable amount of customers today, and they’re second in line.

Hinata grins. It’s annoyingly infectious, which is evident by the way Yamaguchi grins in kind. “That’s so cool! I’m a middle blocker.” He blinks suddenly, tilting his head. “Wait. ‘Used to be’? You’re not gonna try playing in university?”

Yamaguchi shrugs, which is an impressive feat due to the food he holds. “I dunno. Maybe.” His face scrunches up in thought. “I’m kinda out of practice, though.” 

Yamamoto, who happens to be the first customer, shifts slightly on his feet. He looks like he wants to say something, and Tsukishima consequently begins to scan his items faster.

“So what?” Hinata challenges. “You should practice, then.” A welcoming, determined glint comes into his eyes. “There’s a rec centre, and I’m on the volleyball team, remember? We can practice together.”

Tsukishima almost drops the air salonpas he was scanning. 

_Oh shit,_ he thinks, and from the looks of it, so does Yamamoto. 

“That’s so nice of you!” Yamaguchi says, beaming at Hinata. “I’ll think about it, since I don’t know if I’ll play yet.”

Hinata’s face slightly falls at “I’ll think about it”, but he corrects his expression, saying, “Sure. You know who to ask.”

 _You know who to ask?_ Tsukishima thinks bewilderedly. Since when did Hinata get so smooth?

“Uh,” Yamamoto says, poking through his reverie. “I didn’t buy any gum.”

Tsukishima’s hand stutter on the pack of gum he was about to scan. “Sorry,” he apologizes, but he’s brimming with embarrassment. He takes out the packs of gum he added(three this time), ringing up Yamamoto’s total.

Yamamoto fishes out change from his pocket. Before he can dump it in Tsukishima’s waiting hand, he turns to Yamaguchi. “I play volleyball too,” he says, face turning a light shade of red. “So do my friends. If you need any help, you can always ask us.”

“Really?” Yamaguchi says, sounding pleasantly surprised. “Thanks. You’re friends with Kuroo, right?”

“Yeah.” Yamamoto’s back straightens, and he gains some sort of confidence. “We’re all pretty good at volleyball, actually.” 

Hinata sticks his head between Yamamoto and Yamaguchi. “I’m on a sports scholarship,” he interjects, “so I have a lot of experience.”

“What do you mean?” Kageyama pipes up, leaning out of the line. He barely reveals Iwaizumi standing behind him. “A scholarship doesn’t mean you have a lot of experience. You can’t even do receives correctly.”

He directs his stormy blue eyes to Yamaguchi, ignoring the way Hinata splutters. “I’ve been playing for longer,” he says, “so I can help you out.”

Yamaguchi meets his eyes, seeming overwhelmed. “Uh,” he stutters, “thanks.”

“There are a lot of teams,” Iwaizumi says, shuffling his muscly body into Yamaguchi’s point of view. “And they have different difficulty levels. You should be fine.”

“Well, I’ll think about-”

“Yamamoto,” Tsukishima cuts off, and everyone’s gazes go to him. His eyes flick to them, but he puts on an air of indifference. “You haven’t paid yet.”

“Oh.” Yamamoto reddens, turning around to drop change in Tsukishima’s waiting hand. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” Tsukishima mutters, poking through the coins in his palm. He places some of it in the cash register, and the rest back into Yamamoto’s hand

“I’ll go after you,” Yamaguchi insists, moving to stand behind Hinata. 

Hinata shakes his head fervently. “No, no,” he reasons, “you came here first, so you should go.” 

A white lie. Tsukishima saw Hinata come here first, and he was clearly killing time by looking through the candy racks. 

Yamaguchi quirks a brow. “Are you sure?”

“Uh,” Hinata says, taken aback. For once, Tsukishima doesn’t chalk that up to his social ineptitude, but to how cute the expression looks on Yamaguchi. “Yeah. I have a lot of items.”

Tsukishima and Yamamoto’s eyes go to Yamaguchi’s arms, which are currently hugging an excessive amount of food. Hinata, on the other hand, only has a few containers of dishwashing soap.

“Sure,” Yamaguchi acquicesces, setting his food onto the counter. Yamamoto blushes and moves to the back of the till. 

Hinata gives Yamaguchi an enthusiastic grin and a nod. 

“Oh,” Yamaguchi suddenly says, pointing at the several loaves of bread he brought. “There was a sale on these, I was wondering if-”

“The discount applies,” Tsukishima says, staring at the four packs of milk bread Yamaguchi has decided to buy.

 _What’s he going to do with four loaves of bread?_ He asks himself, but he shakes the thought out of his head. 

Yamaguchi smiles in relief. “Alright. Thanks.” He shifts on his feet awkwardly. “This place has better deals than Vexall, so I always go here.” 

Tsukishima feels the back of his neck get hot. He hopes his boss isn’t nearby. “We value our customers,” he says stiffly, and then curses himself for seeming so rigid in Yamaguchi’s presence. 

“Wait,” Kageyama says, leaning out of the line again. Tsukishima has the urge to push him back in. “This place has good discounts?”

Even Iwaizumi, who Tsukishima trusted to be uninvolved, leans out of the line. “What discounts?” he asks. 

Hinata whips his head to Tsukishima. “Yeah,” he reiterates, “what discounts?” 

Tsukishima bristles, and forces himself to scan the items as calmly as he can. “You don’t see the discounts,” he snipes, using Hinata as an easy target, “because you’re too busy dropping things.” 

As expected, Hinata glares hotly at him. Thank god he’s easy to rile up. “Wanna fight, Tsukishima?”

“Uh, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi suddenly interrupts, and at the nickname, everyone’s eyes go to Tsukishima. 

“Yes?” Tsukishima says. He feels himself start to sweat under the growing pressure. 

Yamaguchi looks at the counter. “I didn’t buy four packs of gum.”

Tsukishima stares down at the counter. The entire bulk of Yamaguchi’s purchases have been scanned, including four extra packs of gum. 

He smiles tightly at Yamaguchi. “Sorry,” he apologizes, and wants to die amidst the looks everyone gives him. 

* * *

“There are a ton of people here,” Yamaguchi says, waiting for Tsukishima to scan the assortment of pots he’s placed on the counter. 

Tendou and Oikawa are currently having a petty spat. Kuroo and Daichi are somewhere nearby, and their argument seems just as impassioned.

“You’re right,” Tsukishima slowly agrees. 

“Aren’t most of the visitors from the other end of campus?” Yamaguchi asks, pushing his pots into a straighter position. 

Tsukishima lifts one of them carefully. “Hinata and Kageyama are from nearby,” he answers, “and everyone else is from across campus.” 

Technically, he just sold everyone out. He pays it no mind. It’s a dog eats dog world, after all. 

A look of confusion goes over Yamaguchi. “But there’s a Vexall, isn’t there?” he asks, tilting his head. “Ushijima mentioned it.”

The head tilt causes Tsukishima’s heart to jump into his throat. _Fuck everyone else,_ he thinks, and says, “There is. It’s closer to them, too.”

“Uh, no offense,” Yamaguchi starts, “but why are they coming here? Doesn’t Vexall have more stuff?”

Tsukishima peers at Yamaguchi over his glasses. “No idea,” he responds, scanning a pot. 

Yamaguchi scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “This place does have good discounts, though.”

Tendou says something that causes Oikawa to gasp dramatically. Kuroo and Daichi are stuck in a handshake that looks more like mid-air arm wrestling.

“Only because we have good customers,” Tsukishima answers, feeding into the brash impulsiveness that arises in him. He pointedly ignores the scene behind him, and makes eye contact with Yamaguchi again. 

Yamaguchi reddens slightly. The sight makes Tsukishima feel almost giddy - he made Yamaguchi blush, which seems to be more momentous than any other achievement in his life.

“Y - yeah,” Yamaguchi stutters out, eyes slipping to the ground. His lips are pressed together, but from the way the corners of his mouth rise, he seems to be smiling.

The moment is broken by Oikawa’s indignant squawk.

“That’s a cheap trick, and you know it,” he retorts, glaring at Tendou, who looks bemused. 

Kuroo and Daichi’s arm muscles bulge impressively.

“You have a strong grip, Daichi,” Kuroo says wryly, his hand trembling in Daichi’s. “D’you eat a lot? Work out?”

Daichi grins politely. It looks absolutely terrifying. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he shoots back. “Are you looking for advice, Kuroo?”

Yamaguchi takes in the scene with a look of bewilderment.

“Uh,” he says, turning to Tsukishima, who is also watching the shitshow unfold, “you should probably do something.”

Tsukishima glances between Yamaguchi and the disaster behind him. 

_All of this_ , he thinks, _because of one person?_

“Guys,” he drawls out. “Get out if you’re not going to buy anything.”

Daichi and Kuroo finally break their handshake, and their hands are bright red. Oikawa crosses his arms petulantly. Tendou swings his own around aimlessly. 

They all look at Yamaguchi, and then to each other.

“Right,” Oikawa says smoothly, wandering off into an aisle. 

Tendou analyzes the ferns on sale.

“You’re buying air salonpas, right?” Kuroo asks Daichi, turning towards him. He shakes off his bruised hand behind his back.

Daichi nods. He curls his own battered hand behind him. “Yeah. You know where it is?”

“Yeah.” Kuroo turns into an aisle with a far too practiced motion. “Follow me.”

 _Idiots_. With the exception of Yamaguchi, Tsukishima is surrounded by idiots. 

* * *

“You should get another fern,” Hinata says, pointing at the row of ferns in the plant stand. “So your other fern can have a friend.” 

Yamaguchi pokes the pot of the fern. “That’s true,” he acquiesces, “but I kind of want something else.”

Bokuto pops up between them. Tsukishima winces in sympathy for Yamaguchi and Hinata.

“Get a golden pothos, then,” Bokuto says, nodding at a leafy plant that overflows from its pot.

“What’s a golden pothos?” Hinata asks. At the sight of Bokuto, his face lightens considerably, but Yamaguchi’s presence beside him taints it with competitiveness. 

Bokuto grins. “It’s called a money plant,” he begins, and Tsukishima can tell he’s going to start rambling. “They can’t be killed. Plus, they stay green in darkness, which is cool, right?”

Yamaguchi gives him a little grin back. “That’s pretty cool.” 

“Didn’t they ruin the walls of your dorm?” Hinata asks. “I heard you had to pay, like, a ton of money.”

Bokuto sighs sadly. “Yeah, I did,” he agrees, looking crestfallen. “They looked so cool.” He turns to Yamaguchi. “You know those buildings with vines on them?”

“Yeah?” Yamaguchi says.

“Imagine that,” Bokuto continues, sounding wistful, “except inside a room.”

“You ripped up your walls, Bo,” Kuroo interjects. He pops up behind Bokuto, holding a basket full of shampoo in his hand. 

He looks at Yamaguchi. “Unless you wanna pay hundreds of dollars in fines, you should get something else.”

Yamaguchi looks surprised at his appearance. “Uh,” he stutters, “okay. Thanks.” He grabs the fern off the stand, dropping a bit of soil on the ground.

“I’ll just get another fern, then,” he says, smiling at Hinata. Hinata beams back. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem!” Bokuto exclaims, and Tsukishima can hear every inflection in his voice despite being decently far away. 

Kuroo grins. “Any time.” 

“Yeah,” Hinata interrupts, clearly not willing to be left in the dust, “we’re always here to help.”

Yamaguchi’s expression skitters as he watches the three people in front of him. He nods, looking slightly cowed. “Later.”

The three call out a garbled mess of goodbyes as Yamaguchi makes his way to the counter.

“Is that all?” Tsukishima asks, taking in Yamaguchi’s slightly reddened face.

Ripping his eyes off of the ground, Yamaguchi places the fern on the countertop. “Yeah,” he says, sounding slightly breathless.

“You have fertilizer?” Tsukishima asks, picking up the fern to scan the barcode. He gets some soil on his fingertips.

Glancing over at the pots near the entrance, he adds, “We have a sale on pots, if you want.” 

A questioning look goes over Yamaguchi. “You do?” he asks, matching Tsukishima’s glance. There’s no yellow banner over the pile of pots near the entrance.

Tsukishima feels his face get hot. If Shimada ever decides to check up on him during his shifts, he’s going to kill him. Or fire him. Or both. 

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “I just haven’t put the stuff up yet.”

 _Crap,_ he thinks, feeling slightly harried. _Where am I going to find more discount banners?_

“That’s fine,” Yamaguchi responds. He digs into his pocket to bring out a few bills. “I’ll just take the plant for now.”

He drops them into Tsukishima’s waiting palm. For some reason, he looks more antsy than usual.

Tsukishima takes the bills. His fingers brush Yamaguchi’s hand slightly. It’s akin to torture, how close their hands are, and how much his cowardice prevents him from doing anything about it. 

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi suddenly says, watching Tsukishima put the bills into the cash register and count out the change.

The nickname causes Tsukishima to look up. A coin nearly slips between fingers. 

“Yeah?” he responds. His arms jerk slightly to catch the coin. He’s sure he both looks and sounds stupid.

“Uh.” Yamaguchi stares fixedly at a spot on the counter.

 _I should clean it later,_ Tsukishima thinks, and ignores the fact that the counter has never been cleaned.

Yamaguchi scuffs at the ground with his foot. The sight makes Tsukishima’s cheeks heat up.

“Wanna go out with me some time?” Yamaguchi asks, words tumbling out of his mouth in a rush. He looks incredibly nervous. His shoulders are hunched as he twists his hands together.

The words hit Tsukishima like a hammer to the head. 

“What?” he asks, and from the way Yamaguchi looks up, face entirely red, he feels like imploding.

“Like,” Yamaguchi stutters, “I mean, I think you’re cute, and I just wanted to-”

“Yes.” Tsukishima’s voice cuts through his stuttering. His face feels like it’s on fire. “Yeah. Sure.” 

Yamaguchi looks up from the ground. His shoulders relax as he straightens his back, showing off his broad chest. “You mean…?”

Tsukishima wishes he could hide his face right now. “I’ll go out with you.” He looks pointedly away, gaze falling onto the perfectly ordered lottery cards off to the side. “I think you’re cute, too.”

“You do?” Yamaguchi asks. The wonderment in his voice is adorable. He looks like a strawberry with how red he blushes. 

The change is starting to get sticky in Tsukishima’s hands. “Yeah,” he says, ignoring the gross feeling, and rips his eyes from the lottery cards to Yamaguchi’s red face.

Yamaguchi’s mouth curls into a little smile. “Uh,” he stutters, hand going to the hollow of his neck sheepishly, “thanks.”

Tsukishima feels a stupid grin grow on his face. “No problem.”

He wants to bury his head in his hands. What kind of reply is _no problem?_ That’s so dumb. Yamaguchi probably thinks he’s weird. They’re probably never going to-

A crash interrupts Tsukishima’s diatribe. When he looks over, he sees Hinata, who’s trying to gather a bunch of hand sanitizer bottles that fell on the floor. 

“Sorry!” Hinata yelps, and his movements become more rushed. Some of the bottles fall onto their sides. 

Kuroo and Bokuto join in, stacking the bottles back in their display.

“Yeah,” Kuroo says, a red tinge on his face. His rumbly voice is showing signs of cracking. “That was my fault, too.”

“And mine,” Bokuto pipes up, a red sheen dusting his cheeks.

They all look at Tsukishima enviously. Instead of looking defiantly back at them, Tsukishima glances at Yamaguchi.

“Place and time?” Tsukishima asks. His voice comes out smoothly, thank god.

Yamaguchi reddens again. The sight is glorious.

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! this fic was a blast to write. i loved it so much. yamaguchi is a hunk and a heartstopper and you can take that trope from my cold, dead hands. 
> 
> (mild manga spoilers: did you see his arms?? he's a swole king.)
> 
> this fic is based off of the bollywood movie, chaman bahaar, except it's stripped of all of its controversial/sad elements. i would write all of my tskymweek prompts using bollywood movie plots, but alas, i have neither the time nor the willpower. if you want to know how wack bollywood plots can get, look up the film "kati pataang" (severed kite). it's nuts. someone loses their limbs in that movie. 
> 
> anyways, thanks for reading this far. [here's my twitter](https://twitter.com/burningutica) and [here's my tumblr](https://phyllomena.tumblr.com/) if you want to hmu. have a great day/night!


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